


Walter's Rat: A Fairy Tale

by fhsa_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-10
Updated: 2005-04-10
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:07:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: Walter needs a little help getting the prince of his dreams.





	Walter's Rat: A Fairy Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

**Author's note:** I meant to get out a story for Ursula's birthday. Of course, I'm late, as usual. But I know she likes fairy tales. This one was inspired by the fun book of gay fairy tales by Peter Cashorali. Liberties have been taken with fairy tale writing style from the book, and the characters are obvious rip-offs of Chris Carter's characters, but it is only meant in fun and no money is being made from this. Besides, I love these characters more than Chris Carter ever did. 

 

 

There once was a king who owned a great deal of land and was very powerful. Unfortunately, this king was also very greedy and cruel, as he was part demon. When he spoke, curls of foul smoke would come from between his yellow teeth, and his breath could stun a strong man. He would use his position and power to destroy the lives of any who dared to defy him. He had spies everywhere, and there was no one safe from his machinations. When the king couldn't buy or obtain an item he desired legally, he had trained agents who would do whatever it took to get him the object of his desire. 

 

One day, one of his favorite agents, a young man named Alexei, returned from a year long journey in bitter defeat. He had been sent to steal the Quill of World Class Writing. You see, the king had a secret desire to be a world famous author, and although he had great powers and more wealth than he could ever spend, he had not one iota of writing ability. He had learned through his agents that the Quill of World Class Writing would enable anyone to write stories of such beauty and wonder that no one could fail to love the author. 

 

As soon as the king learned of this marvelous item, nothing would do but that he possess it, and so he had sent forth his loyal agent. Sadly, the owner of the Quill had caught Alexei in the act of making off with the elegant feather, and in that time and place, the punishment for stealing was the removal of an arm. Alexei's arm had been removed violently, then the stricken man was released to find his way home. 

 

The king was furious when he was informed of his agent's failure. Despite the fact that Alexei had served him well and faithfully for years, the king could not abide failure, he ordered Alexei executed. Alexei threw himself at the king's feet, pleading for mercy, and reminding the king of the many precious and beautiful things he had obtained for him over the years. 

 

The king was unmoved by his agent's words, as mercy was not a concept his demon nature could comprehend. He ordered that Alexei should be taken to the execution stage in the center of town, there to be tortured until death, so that all could see the price of failing the king. 

 

The people of the kingdom were accustomed to these public executions, and there was almost a carnival atmosphere in the town square as the citizens prepared to watch the spectacle. There was one in the crowd, however, who could not stand idly by. 

 

Walter was a gruff, experienced member of the King's Elite Guard. He was more distinguished than handsome, and more kind hearted than distinguished. He was tall, and powerfully built, a man that made many a damsel flutter her eyelashes and all but swoon at his mere approach. He had been strong and trustworthy soldier for the king from a very young age. He often did not approve of his king's orders, finding himself forced to do actions his noble heart cried against. And Walter was indeed of noble blood. He came from a long line of honest, hard working nobles. Just the type the king despised. Through devious means, the king had destroyed the family, forcing them into poverty. Out of desperation, and wanting to see Walter have a chance at a better life, his family sold him into apprenticeship to the King's Guard at a young age. The guards were good to Walter, and he was as loyal as a true hearted man could be. 

Walter had known Alexei for years, had seen him about the palace, going about the King's business. Walter had known him, known his quick smile and his pleasing manner, and had secretly longed to know him even better. But the time had Never Been Right. 

 

Now, he could not bare to stand by and let the young man suffer. He knew he would have no chance to free him, not with the king's shape-changing allies in the crowd, but he would not let Alexei suffer. He hardened his heart, and before the royal torturer could get really started, a well placed quarrel shot from in hiding, killed the unfortunate young Alexei. 

 

The king swore and ranted that his fun had been stolen, but no one had seen the bowman, and soon the matter was dropped. 

 

Two days later Walter was making rounds of the palace when he heard a ruckus by the back gate. There were several women, pale, exhausted by grief, all in black, standing before a grizzled guard. The mourners wailed and groaned and ground their teeth, but the guard was implacable, standing with his arms crossed over his chest, shaking his head. 

 

Walter approached cautiously. "What goes on here?" he asked. 

 

"Please, sir," one of the women turned to him. "We just want the body of our brother, Alexei. Please, allow us to give him a decent burial, that's all we ask." 

 

"He offended the king," the guard growled out. "Them what offend the king are tossed in the midden heap. I could lose my job if I let you take his body." 

"We'll pay you," one of the mourners pleaded. 

 

"I'm not risking the king's wrath for a few measly coins," the guard said stonily. 

 

"How much would it take?" Skinner asked him quietly. 

 

The guard cocked his head, studying Walter suspiciously. "Why would you want to be gettin' involved, what with you bein' in the Guard and all?" 

 

"I am in the Guard," Walter agreed, "but I am also a man, after all." And Walter let his eyes stray to the weeping young women standing before them in a manner to give the guard the wrong idea. The guard smiled a wicked, gap toothed smile, thinking Walter to be a man after his own heart. Walter fought to keep his expression friendly, which was not easy when dealing with such a man, for Walter was an honest and good man. 

 

"It is a small enough thing they ask." Walter told him convincingly. "And I can not harden my heart to the tears of lovely ladies." Walter smiled at the guard in a knowing way, letting the man believe he was doing it only to impress the young women. In truth, his heart was touched by the mourner's tears, but it also held a touch of guilt and grief for his hand in the beautiful Alexei's death. 

"Now, how much would it take to make it worth your while?" 

 

It took some convincing, but Walter and the grizzled veteran finally came to terms. Walter handed over the agreed upon amount from his wallet and Alexei's body was turned over to his family among much weeping and giving of thanks to the honest Walter. The guard returned to his duties, Walter to his rounds, and the relieved mourners carried Alexei's body away for a proper funeral. 

 

It was late that evening, as Walter turned from closing the door to his horse's stall, that he saw the rat. When not riding, Walter kept his horse's saddle on a wooden stand near the stall. As he turned he saw a rat sitting on the seat of the saddle. It wasn't an ordinary rat. Walter could tell that right away. For one thing, the sleek black animal was sitting there running his forepaw thoughtfully across the leather of the saddle, an odd, almost wistful expression on its oddly attractive whiskered face. For another, it was looking at him with the brightest green eyes he had ever seen. Walter was quite certain that rats didn't come with green eyes, and his feeling that things were not what they seemed intensified as the animal spoke to him. 

 

Now, talking animals weren't exactly unheard of. Certainly the kingdom had more than its fair share of stories and legends of enchanted creatures. It was just that Walter Skinner had never imagined that he would ever run into one. So he just stood and stared as the lovely creature sat up on its haunches, fluffed its whiskers delicately, and wished him a good evening. 

 

Walter was surprised to hear that the rat didn't have the high-pitched squeaky voice one might expect to hear from a talking rat. Instead, the rat's voice was a low, husky whisper. Walter found he quite liked the sound of it. 

 

The rat cocked his head slightly to one side, its tiny pink nose twitching as it studied Walter. "Are you quite all right?" It asked politely. 

 

"Yes, I . . .um. . ." Walter stammered. "It's just I. . .I never expected to meet a fairy creature." 

 

The rat's green eyes glittered with amusement, and the uplifting of its whiskers gave the impression of a smile. "You've never met a fairy? Are you quite certain?" it asked Walter brightly. 

 

Walter regained his composure quickly. "I've never had the pleasure of talking to a green eyed rat before." He stated solemnly. 

 

"I'm not certain that's true either," the rat smirked, "but that's neither here nor there. You have the look of a man that needs a servant." 

 

Walter scoffed. "A servant? What would I do with a servant? I'm a King's Guard." 

 

The rat scratched behind one ear with a forepaw. "A companion then." 

 

"And what would I need with a rat companion?" 

 

The black rat straightened, putting his forepaws on his hips in exasperation. "Here now, I stand here before you, a genuine, certified Magical Talking Animal Companion and you want to argue with me?" 

 

Walter thought of the stories he'd heard and decided discretion was the better part of valor. "Sorry, it's just that I can't figure out why you would choose me." 

 

The rat sat down, his expression softening. "Because you are a very kind, good hearted man, and you will need me." 

 

That was good enough for Walter. He reached out his hand and allowed the rat to scamper up his arm and perch on his shoulder. 

 

As time went by people became used to seeing the big, powerful guard going about his business, often with a beautiful pet rat with fur so soft, thick, and luxurious that minks were so filled with jealousy that they keeled over dead at the sight. Walter was sad though, that his friend would not tell him his name, no matter how he begged and entreated. So the beautiful animal went simply by the name, Rat. 

 

Rat was a perfect Animal Companion. He was well spoken, considerate, attentive, and he never came home without some small present for Walter. Sometimes it was some small item chosen for its prettiness, or because he thought it might make Walter smile. Often it was a rich pastry, usually denied mere guards, he had stolen from the King's kitchens. And when Walter was stiff and sore from a hard day training, or putting down a doomed revolt against the King, Rat would be there with sweet smelling oils and fragrant candles burning in Walter's tiny room. 

 

Rat would have Walter undress and bathe in the wonderful bath he had prepared, then lay on the bed. Despite his small size, Rat would then proceed to give Walter the best massage of his life. It tickled, having the tiny toes and soft, soft fur running up and down his body, but by the end Walter was always relaxed and feeling wonderful. 

 

Walter was content, but he wasn't really happy. Something was missing from his life. 

 

"What makes you sad, beloved?" Rat asked him. 

 

Walter sighed, and tried to deny his sadness, but Rat would have none of it. "Tell me, my love, what is it that makes you sigh and causes you to drag from your bed in the morning?" 

 

Finally Walter relented. He told Rat of the sadness he felt when he saw the evil of the king, and he told of the dreams he had been having. 

 

"Every night, for the last three nights, I have had the same dream. It is so real, I wake with longing so that I can barely drag myself from my bed." 

 

"What do you dream of, my love?" 

 

"I dream of a man, a prince, the most beautiful prince in the world. Oh, Rat, he is so slender, and tall, and graceful. His mouth is lush and sensual, so that I know to kiss it is to taste heaven, and his eyes. . .they are all the colors of the earth, beautiful and alluring." Walter sighed deeply, turning sad brown eyes on his beloved friend. "I must meet him, Rat, I feel my very life depends on it." 

 

Rat studied him carefully, his usually expressive face still for once, then he spoke softly. "I know what you need, Walter. Have faith in me and your heart's desire shall be yours." 

 

Walter looked doubtfully at the small rat, then considered the tales of Animal Companions. He smiled brightly. "I know you will, Rat. I do trust you." 

 

"That's all I ask, Walter." 

 

Days passed, and although Rat continued to be as attentive, and considerate and loving as before, Walter grew restless. 

 

"Rat," he asked, "what is taking so long? I have been waiting, but I am no closer to seeing my prince. I had the dream again last night, but nothing has changed." 

 

"Patience, my love," Rat answered calmly. "You must wait till the time is right. Trust me." 

 

And Walter assured him that he did trust him completely. And Rat was content with that. 

 

The next day all the king's elite guards were called to the palace courtyard. The king was angry. He had sent agent after agent after the Quill of World Class Writing, and all had either died in the attempt, or been killed on the king's command on returning empty handed. Those who had tried to run had been hunted down by the king's shape shifting allies, and what happened to them is far too terrible to tell here. 

 

Regardless, the king's news this day was distressing. The king was choosing members of his Elite Guard to go in search of the Quill of World Class Writing. He stated that he would keep sending guards until the Quill was his, or he ran out of guards. No one was betting on which would happen first. 

 

That night, as Walter entered his tiny room, he felt no pleasure as he saw the magnificent meal that Rat had prepared for him. Neither did he smile as Rat happily scurried over to climb up to his favorite spot, nestling between Walter's neck and his shoulder. 

 

"What troubles you, my love?" Rat asked softly into Walter's ear. 

 

"The king will not give up, he must have the Quill of World Class Writing. Over a dozen agents have been lost trying to obtain it, and tomorrow he is sending out two of my oldest friends." 

 

Try as he might, Rat was unable to comfort Walter, and the big man spent a restless night, worrying for his friends. 

 

In the morning, Dana and John were sent out to obtain the Quill for the king. As they led their horses from the stable they happened to see a large, velvety soft and sleek rat with green eyes staring at them from the top of a low fence. 

 

As they neared Rat remarked. "When you get to the village by the sawmill, spend the night in the dark inn, not the bright one." 

 

Dana and John, far from being flabbergasted, let alone grateful for the tip, were highly indignant. 

 

"I do not believe in talking animals." Dana declared firmly, in her best no-nonsense voice. "Therefore that rat did not speak to us. He is merely a bit of indigestion from that substandard and unhealthy breakfast we were served this morning." 

 

"I don't take advice from rats," John asserted. Because he was a no-nonsense sort of man. "I kill them." And he swung his sword at his would be advisor. But a rat, especially a Magic Talking Rat, was far too fast for him to hit. 

 

The two proceeded to the edge of the king's kingdom and entered the great forest. They rode for two days and two nights and on the third night they found themselves in a village surrounding a sawmill. This village boasted two inns, one on each side of the road. The inn on the left was small, dark, and shabby, not at all the sort of place where two attractive young people with high self-esteem would care to spend the night. The inn on the right was another matter entirely. Its door was highly polished glass and a footman stood next to the entrance, ready to take the reins of their horses. The delightful sounds of a very good Rhythm and Blues band drifted out to the street, and the smell of well prepared food accompanied it. It seemed a far more appropriate place for people of their back grounds to spend the night. 

 

Over drinks they got to know each other better, and they found they had a great deal in common and were much attracted to one another. So much so that they soon became lost in one another and stayed at the inn, making plans for how many children they would have, and how they would escape the king's allies, and in general their future together. In a very short time they forgot completely about the Quill of World Class Writing altogether. 

 

Meanwhile, the king became impatient waiting for one of his guards to bring him the Quill of World Class Writing, as time went by he became more and more restless and dissatisfied and cruel tempered. His foul breath and noxious smoke were becoming so strong that courtiers were having difficulty pandering to him and trying to win his favor. 

 

Then the day came when Walter was sent to obtain the Quill of World Class Writing. As with all the other questors, he was promised vast wealth and a title with lands if he obtained the item, and promised a horrible death if he failed. 

Walter gathered up his pack and filled it with sandwiches and supplies. Before he left his tiny room, he picked up Rat and sat him on his shoulder. 

 

"Where are we off to?" Rat asked sweetly. 

 

"The time has come," Walter told his little friend. "The king is sending me out to obtain the Quill of World Class Writing, and I fear what the future will bring." 

 

Rat patted his ear with a tiny paw comfortingly. "Never fear, my love, I will help you." 

 

At that, Walter smiled. "I know you will, Rat. You have ever helped me, and I don't know how I'll ever be able to thank you properly." 

 

"When the time comes," Rat assured him. "I'll ask for something." 

 

"Anything," Walter promised. "Whatever I have is half yours, always." 

 

"That is very good to hear," Rat whispered in his ear. 

 

Soon they were on their way, comparing observations on life in the palace, which neither found completely satisfactory. After some time they came to the forest at the edge of the kingdom and entered it. 

 

They rode for two days and nights and on the third night they came to the village surrounding a sawmill and saw the two inns. Walter didn't pay any attention to the one full of light and laughter but went directly to the small dark inn and asked for a room for himself and his rat. The innkeeper was delighted to have guests and gave Walter the best room in the house, which in spite of the inn's appearance proved to be larger than Walter's old room at the castle, and much more comfortable. Walter passed a restful night, Rat sleeping on the pillow beside him, and in the morning the innkeeper brought them up a lovely breakfast. 

 

Walter was just saddling his horse when Jonathan and Dana came up to him. Walter was delighted to see his friends, but saddened when Jonathan explained that he and Dana had been forced to sell their mounts to pay for their stay and had no horse to take them from the kingdom. Being a very kind-hearted man, Walter immediately gave his horse to the happy couple, and they promptly went back into the inn to celebrate their good fortune. 

 

When Walter and Rat had put a bend or two of the road between themselves and the village, Rat said to Walter, "Walking like this will take far too long. Step up onto my back, and we'll go fast." 

 

Walter didn't know how a tiny rat, even Rat, could run with someone standing on him, but Rat was a Magical Talking Animal Companion, and Walter knew better than to question him. He stood carefully on Rat's back and Rat ran very fast indeed. The forest leapt by in a green blur, and when it stopped Walter found himself shakily standing before a broad hill. The hill was too steep to climb, too wide to walk around, and covered with tiny white daisies nodding in the breeze. "How pretty," Walter said, because he dearly loved daisies and all flowers. To his surprise, Rat jumped to the side of the hill and began tearing up great handfuls of flowers and throwing them over his shoulder. To his even greater surprise, when enough of the daisies had been torn away, a door was revealed in the hillside. Rat gave the door a knock, it opened, and in he went. Walter followed. 

They made their way down a long low hallway until they found a room in the heart of the hill. An odd little man stood before an enormous pot of soup, stirring and stirring it with a huge wooden spoon. The man wasn't unpleasant to look at, he had a neat beard and clean clothing, and when he noticed he had visitors he gave them a smile like first love. "Hello, boys," he said. "You're just in time for soup. It's my own recipe: I call it The-government-isn't-really-looking-out-for-your-best-interests." 

 

Well, it sounded odd to Walter, but he was very hungry. Before he could say, "Yes, thank you," Rat said in a stern and cold voice, "Have all the soup yourself." 

 

The odd little man gave a cry of dismay and tried to jump aside, but before he could, a hand reached out of the soup, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck, and pulled him into the pot. 

 

"Don't just stand there," he yelled, struggling with the hand. "Help me out of this!" 

 

"You don't seem to have much taste for your own cooking," Rat observed, and it seemed to Walter that he was in no hurry to offer assistance. When Walter went to start forward, Rat called him back sharply. "I said I would help you, Walter. You must trust me." Walter stood undecided for a moment, watching with dismay as the hand gave the little man a good dunking, but then he stood back, trusting his rat. 

 

When the man came up for air, he cried, "Help me and I'll give you anything I possess, except one thing." 

 

"And what's that?" Rat asked. 

 

"My teaspoon of incredible depth," answered the little man. 

 

"Well, then," replied Rat, "your teaspoon of incredible depth it will be, or we'll be on our way." The little man fretted and swore, but in the end there was nothing to do but tell them where the teaspoon was kept. Rat tucked the teaspoon in Walter's pocket, left the little man to get out of the pot as well as he could on his own, and led Walter out by a side door back into the sunshine. Walter thought it was a bit unfair to the little man, but Rat said, "It was mine to begin with." And would say no more about it. 

 

Walter walked on, Rat on his shoulder giving directions, until they came to a second hill directly in their path. The hill was too high to climb, and too wide to go around. It was covered with Daffodils. "Oh, lovely," Walter sighed, because the flowers were so very beautiful in the sunshine. 

 

"They're all right, in their place," Rat said. This must not have been their place, however, for Rat jumped down and set to work tearing them up by the bulbs as fast as he could. Soon he had uncovered a door that opened to his knock. He went inside and Walter followed. 

 

Down a long low hallway they went, and soon they stepped into a room deep in the heart of the hill. An odd little man, with long, straggly blond hair stood before an enormous pot of soup, stirring away at it with a huge wooden spoon. He wasn't a little man who'd be winning any beauty contests, but when he saw he had company he gave them a smile surely intended to be friendly. "You look hungry, boys," he said heartily. "What about some nice hot soup? It's my own recipe: I call it Big-business-is-out-to-make-a-profit-on-the-backs-of-the-poor-working-class." 

 

Well, it was an unlikely name for a soup, though by this time Walter was very hungry and willing to give it a try. But before he could say, "Yes, thank you," Rat spoke in a voice like stones, "Have all the soup yourself." The odd little man ground his teeth in rage and tried to hide under a stool, but a hand rose up out of the soup, knocked the stool aside, and pulled him into the pot by his long, dirty hair. 

 

"Fine guests!" The little man shouted. "Get me out of this, and I'll give you anything I own, except for one thing." 

 

"And what is this one thing?" Rat asked. 

 

"My salad fork of invisibility," the little man growled, trying to slap the hand away. It slapped him back. 

 

"Well, then, your salad fork of invisibility it will be," replied Rat, "or we'll be seeing you around some other time." The odd little man called them sweet names and vile names, but at last he had to tell them which drawer he kept the salad fork in. Rat put the fork into Walter's pocket with the teaspoon, then led Walter out the back door into the sunlight. "Now wait a minute!" Walter cried in frustration. "Serves him right. It was mine to begin with," said Rat, and then he would say no more about it. 

 

Rat climbed back up onto Walter's shoulder and directed him as they walked along. Now, Walter was curious why they hadn't let either of the odd little men out of the soup after they'd gotten the unusual flatware from them. It seemed wrong, but he kept these doubts to himself, having noticed that his Rat was a creature to be reckoned with and who had his own way of doing things. By and by they came to a third hill, so tall the clouds had to walk over its top, so wide that it touched the horizon on either side. The hill was covered with rosebushes, and every bush was filled with the rosiest roses Walter had ever seen. "What do you think, Walter?" asked Rat. "Nice roses?" 

 

"I think you're going to get hurt pulling them up," Walter said unenthusiastically. He grasped one of the bushes and tried to pull it up, fearing the thorns would seriously hurt his tiny rat friend. But the roots went deep, and all he managed to do was get his hands stuck with thorns. Rat moved in between his legs and began digging, he tore several bushes out of the hillside, and there was a door that opened to his knock. In they went, down a long low hallway to a room deep in the heart of the hill. 

 

Here the oddest little man of all stood before an enormous pot of soup, and he was by far the oddest looking of little men, but he still swung a huge wooden spoon to stir the soup with. When he saw that he had guests he smiled a smile meant to be welcoming and cried, "Just in time, you lucky boys! Soup's ready, and it's my own, my very own recipe: I call it The-world-is-screwed-so-find-a-woman-sit-back-and-enjoy-yourself." 

 

Well, even Walter knew that was no fit soup to eat, no matter how starved he felt by this point. Before Rat could speak, Walter cried, "Have all your soup yourself!" The odd little man threw him a look like a chainsaw, included a rude and obscene gesture, and tried to run. Before he could take two steps a hand shot out of the soup, grabbed him by the seat of the pants, and hauled him into the pot. 

 

"Ugh, needs salt," snarled the little man, beating at the hand with his huge wooden spoon. The hand wrested the spoon from him and gave him a good whack. "Get me out of this and I'll give you anything I have." 

 

"Except?" prodded Walter. 

 

"Except my steak knife of unfailing sharpness," said the little man in a reasonable tone of voice. "You couldn't expect me to let you have that." 

 

"Could we?" Walter asked Rat. 

 

"We certainly could," Rat replied. "Your steak knife it will be, or it's been nice seeing you." 

 

Well, the little man suggested several things they could do to themselves with common household objects, but finally he had to tell them which steak knife on the rack was the one of unfailing sharpness. Rat took it, out the back door they went and on their way in the sunlight. 

 

Rat climbed back aboard Walter and they went on their way. Walter reflected that if the way to the prince of his dreams was stranger than he had expected, he at least had a level headed and talented friend to help him on his way. Suddenly Rat cried in his ear, "Run, Walter!" 

 

"Why?" Walter asked as he began running. "Behind you," Rat replied. 

 

Walter risked a look behind himself and saw the three odd little men running toward him. Only now they weren't so little, they were enormous and not in very good moods. "Hackers can really mess you up bad, if you piss them off," Rat cried in Walter's ear, hanging on for dear life as Walter ran. 

 

The odd little men, no longer so little, had remarkable running skills for hackers, and each covered a mile at a stride. Walter was in great shape, and he was certainly fleet of foot, but the pursuers were closing very quickly. Just when it seemed that their quest was to have an unhappy end, Rat scrambled into Walter's pocket, took out the teaspoon of unbelievable depth, and threw it toward the hackers. 

 

The first enormous man didn't even see the teaspoon and fell right in. The second, the ugliest saw it, and stopped in the nick of time, but the third man, blinded by his flying blond hair crashed into him from behind and they both fell into the bowl of the spoon and were gone. 

 

Rat cried for Walter to stop, and he did, bent over double gathering his breath. When he could breath easier, he walked back to where the spoon lay and looked into it. Not only was it empty, but the bowl was so deep the sunlight couldn't reach the bottom of it. Walter picked the spoon up and put it back in his pocket. 

 

Rat clambered down to stand on the ground again. He looked up at Walter with his beautiful green eyes and said, "It's too far for you to walk now. Climb on my back and we'll be away." This time Walter didn't hesitate, not even considering how he could stand on so small a back. Rat ran, and the world became a green blur around Walter again. 

 

When Rat stopped, Walter stepped off and found they were standing on the top of a mighty mountain. The air was cold, and the ground covered in snow. Before them stood a magnificent castle made of white stone. In the middle of the castle grounds stood an immense white tower, glittering in the sunlight. Walter walked forward and saw a hundred armed guards milling around in the grass in front of the castle, not paying any attention to them at all. 

 

Rat studied Walter critically. "You need better clothing," he announced at last. 

 

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" Walter asked, frowning down at his worn, but serviceable clothing. 

 

"Not right for entering a castle," Rat informed him. Whereon he sat down and began pulling large pawfuls of fur from his soft belly. In no time he had a pile of fur beside him, larger than himself. And yet, his fur was as thick, and luxurious on his tummy as ever. Rat patted and shaped the pile of discarded fur, muttering as he did. When he was done, he handed Walter a suit fit for a king. The black clothing shone, whispering of money and power. The kind of suit only the very richest noble could wear. 

 

"Walk past the guards boldly, as if you belong here, and the guards won't question you," Rat told Walter solemnly. "Climb up the stairs, to the very top of the ivory tower, and open the first door on the left. Inside you will find the Quill of World Class Writing, but you must take care not to touch anything else in the castle or speak to anyone." 

 

Walter agreed to these terms and strode boldly past the guards. And seeing his regal bearing, and clothing, they did not question him. When he opened the door at the top of the tower, he found a beautifully furnished library. Everything in the room was made of the finest woods, and leathers and spoke of money and power. As Walter walked behind the desk, however, he spotted a small, ragged bundle huddled up against the wall by the desk. Curious, Walter stepped closer and saw that the bundle was a very young child, dirty, emaciated, and covered with bruises and welt marks. The child had a collar around his small neck with a chain tying him to the desk. The boy's head was down, and he was apparently asleep. The room was very cold, and the child wore only rags, Walter could see him shivering. Remembering Rat's words, Walter turned away and picked up the white Quill of World Class Writing from the desk. As he took a step toward the door, a small whimper came from the child behind him. Unable to resist, Walter turned to see the child huddled into a small ball, shivering violently. Walter's kind heart couldn't stand it, he grabbed a thick fur blanket from the couch to one side of the room and laid it gently over the child. Instantly the child, who was not really a child, but a cleverly disguised goblin, jumped up and began shrieking. "Thief! Thief!" he cried. 

 

Before Walter could reach the library door it flew open to let in dozens of guards, who surrounded Walter and led him to the owner of the castle. The king who owned the castle was old, but he was very dignified and elegant, his speech flawless and cultured. "I can't tell you how much I despise those who take things that don't belong to them. Especially when the things are mine," the owner of the castle told Walter coldly. "In order to wean you from this unsavory practice, I'm going to have your arm removed." 

 

Walter felt weak kneed and thought he would faint in fear on hearing these words, but then he felt a movement in his coat pocket and Rat appeared. "Wait, your majesty!" Rat cried out in his husky, velvety voice. And of course the king waved to his guards to wait, as he wanted to hear what this Magical Talking Animal Companion had to say. "Go on, dear rat," he said magnanimously. 

 

"Your majesty," Rat began. "Of course, it is wrong to steal, but Walter did not do it for personal gain. No, indeed he did not. Rather, he is here only on the orders of his king. You see, Walter is a very brave and very loyal servant of his king, and his king has decreed that he can not live without the Quill of World Class Writing in his possession." 

 

"And what is that to me?" the castle owner asked frostily. "I care nothing for the fate of a king far away." 

 

"No, your majesty," Rat agreed. "But I wanted you to understand that Walter is not normally a thief. And I wish to offer you something in exchange for the Quill of World Class Writing." 

 

"What can you offer me?" the king asked. 

 

"I understand your daughter, the Princess Marita, has declared herself The Princess Who Will Never Marry Anyone At All. It seems to me that a king such as yourself, who values family, would be upset that his daughter wants to deprive him of the joy of being surrounded by grandchildren. I propose that Walter could travel to the Castle of Grief and bring back the prince who is so handsome stars fall at his feet hoping he'll pick them up, and your daughter will be so smitten, she will marry him on the spot." 

 

The king looked thoughtful at this, and Walter looked at Rat in horror. "Rat," he whispered, "that is not the prince of my dreams is it?" "Quiet, my love," Rat replied softly. "Trust me." 

 

"Agreed," the king said in his fine, cultured voice. "Bring back the prince who is so handsome the stars fall at his feet and I shall reward you handsomely, including giving you the Quill of World Class Writing." 

 

The king's guards escorted them outside, and there Rat had Walter step onto his back again. In a whisk they were away, off to the Castle of Grief. When Rat stopped, Walter found himself on a land of bleakness, barrenness, and the sharp frosts of winter. In the middle of the land stood a proud old castle. The flags flying from it were black, and a fence of one thousand iron spikes surrounded it. On each spike but one a man's head was impaled. "This is the Castle of Grief," Rat told Walter. 

 

Walter was about to suggest to Rat that they put the castle far behind them when he happened to look up. There, at the highest window of the tallest tower, staring out impassively at the bleak landscape, was the prince of his dreams. "I must meet him!" Walter cried to Rat, and then he strode inside the castle. 

 

In a very short time they found themselves standing before the king, who was named King William the Morose. The king's courtiers wore silver and gold, and the king himself wore gold and diamonds. In spite of the splendor that surrounded him, the king's face was full of lines, and all the lines pointed down. "So," the king said, and Walter had never realized how discouraging the word could sound. "I suppose you've come to try your hand at winning the prince. No doubt you've noticed the 999 heads as you came in. Those are the suitors who couldn't perform the three tasks my son set them. If you can, you win Fox, as well as my kingdom. I will step down. If you can't, well, there's still an empty spike." He sighed, shook his head, then took a very deep drink of the wine in his kingly goblet. "He used to be such a nice young man," he said sadly. "Now all he wants to do is have people's heads cut off." He shook his head again, 

"Still, it's your choice. I think you should leave while you still can, but you are free to spend the night and to try and win the prince." 

 

"I'll stay," Walter said. "I've been dreaming of the prince, and I will die if 

I don't meet him." 

 

"You'll die if you stay," the king said morosely. "Don't say I didn't warn you." 

 

But Walter was determined, and that night, at the dinner table he met Prince Fox in person for the first time. The prince was even more beautiful than in Walter's dreams, slender and graceful and strong. His face was so sensual that Walter nearly cried with the need to kiss it, but he was forestalled by the prince's cool reception. 

 

"Why do you want to be with me?" the prince asked. "No one ever stays with me. I can't trust anyone, everyone betrays me, why should you be any different?" 

 

Walter tried to reassure the prince, he spoke of his dreams, of his love for this most beautiful of all men. But the prince would have none of it. "You say you will always treasure and love me," he told Walter. "Then you must prove your devotion. There are three tasks you must complete. No one has ever accomplished these. You won't either, and you will die." 

 

Walter earnestly assured the prince he was up to the task. 

 

After dinner Prince Fox turned to Walter. "Your first task," he said in an empty voice, "is to keep something for me tonight and give it back to me when I ask for it tomorrow." He handed Walter a golden cock ring. Walter, who thought he'd be told to remove a mountain and replace it with a lake or something equally impossible, was elated. He put the cock ring in his pocket. Then Fox's manner changed completely. He became convivial and flirtatious, drew Walter out and made him laugh, and filled his glass again and again until Walter's head spun with all the wine and attention. 

 

Meanwhile, Rat had excused himself early from the table and went down to the kennel. There were a great many dogs there, all of them magnificent specimens of their breeds, but all contentedly asleep. At last he came to a hunting poodle, wide awake, with gorgeous golden curls and a bitter expression about its muzzle. 

"What time does the prince take you for your walk tonight?" Rat asked in his smoothest voice, keeping himself hidden in shadows. 

 

"What sort of fool expects a dog to answer questions?" the poodle sneered, and then too late realized it had given itself away. "Eleven-thirty," it grumbled. Satisfied, Rat went up to Walter's room. 

 

When the evening came to a close, Walter bid Fox good night and went up to his own room. He undressed and, for safekeeping, put on the golden cock ring, thoughts of Fox keeping it in place, then he lay down and fell into a heavy sleep. 

 

Fox went up to his tower, but didn't undress. Instead, he used an ancient technique he had learned from a shaman and softly called out. A cat, the color of something difficult to see detached itself from the shadows. Fox sent it creeping down to Walter's room. The cat crouched on Walter's chest, watching him, unaware of Rat's presence in the deep folds of the velvet window curtains. The cat watched, and every time Walter took a breath the cat stole half of it, with the result that Walter began having terrible dreams. After awhile the cock ring slipped off, and the cat carried it in its mouth back to Fox. 

 

At exactly eleven-thirty, Fox went down to the kennel to take his poodle out for a walk. But Rat, with the salad fork of invisibility threaded into his fur, was waiting unseen at the door of the kennel. Fox leashed the poodle and said, "Come on, boy. You know the way." and the dog took off like a shot, with Fox running behind. When it reached the door to the kennel, the dog gave a sudden leap into the air. As Fox's feet left the ground, Rat seized hold of the shoelace of one of Fox's shoes, and off into the night sky they went. 

 

The dog flew over the frozen fields and mountains, over a vast forest, over the sea, until it approached a great rock far out in the water, and there it came down. It lifted its leg against the face of the rock and urinated, and where the urine hit, a door opened. Fox went inside, Rat scurrying quietly along behind him. Within the rock was a furnished single apartment, lushly and beautifully furnished and decorated, and within the apartment dwelled a sea hag. The sea hag, named Fowley, for her foul nature, was waiting for Fox. 

 

Now, Fox was a brilliant and well learned man, specializing in the strange and the occult, he was capable of using powerful magic, such as teaching a dog how to talk and to fly. He made short work of supernatural monsters, such as demons and ghosts with ease. In fact, he was so good at destroying ghosts and poltergeists and the like that some in his kingdom had given him a secret nickname of Spooky. They never called him that to his face, of course. 

Especially not after the heads began appearing on spikes in front of his castle. No, especially not then. 

 

However, Prince Fox had a weakness, and that was he believed in aliens. From outer space. As if there could be such a place. Sadly, Prince Fox's sister, the Princess Samantha, had been stolen from the palace when Fox was just a child, and was never heard from again. Prince Fox vowed he would find her, and he delved deep into the study of magic and the paranormal, hoping to find her. Once, when he had a demon cowering and begging for its life, Fox demanded to know where his sister had been taken. The demon replied that Princess Samantha was nowhere in heaven or earth, but that she had been taken by aliens from another planet. So convincing was the demon, and so grief stricken and weary was Fox after his battle, that Fox believed him. At that point Fox became obsessed with finding these "Aliens". 

 

Fox searched far and wide for these aliens, learning many things, but the aliens remained stubbornly out of his reach. Then he met the sea hag. The sea hag was a cunning and devious creature. She convinced Fox that she could help him, as she had power over the aliens, and if he worked with her, and became her lover, she would see to it he caught the aliens. So Fox had become lovers with the sea hag, visiting her each night after everyone was asleep. 

 

The sea hag insisted that Fox have no other lovers, especially men, and was always pressuring Fox to move in with her. Fox had at first resisted, but under the cunning sea hag's influence life had lost all its joy, and gradually the idea of coming here to stay had begun to seem, if not more attractive, then at least less painful than dealing with life had become for the prince. The sea hag's only fear was that somehow Fox might discover that he had more magic and knowledge himself than she ever would. As he walked up to her she sniffed, wrinkling her nose in disgust. "You've been with a man," she accused. 

 

"No," Fox replied in his monotone way, "but another man is trying to win me." 

 

"He will never have you!" the sea hag snarled. "You belong with me." 

 

"Yes," Fox said in his monotone way, "and tomorrow his head will go on the one-thousandth spike for want of this." And he handed the golden earring to the sea hag. 

 

"Good," she laughed. And she tossed the earring into drawer of a dresser that was filled with such rings. But Rat was quick, and he caught the ring and put it threw his own left ear for safe keeping. 

 

"Who's the only one in the world you love?" the sea hag whispered eagerly. 

 

"You," Fox sighed, moving into the sea hag's arms. They lay down together on a couch carved of marble, and Fox remained in the sea hag's embrace, silent and staring ahead at nothing, all night long. 

 

Just before dawn, Fox got up, kissed the sea hag good-bye, and left her apartment. He leashed his poodle and cried, "Let's go, boy! You know the way back." The dog leapt into the air, Rat caught hold of the lace of Fox's Reebock, and away they went, over the sea, over the mountains, over the vast forest, over the frozen meadows, and down again at the door to the kennel. Fox climbed up to the tower to shower and change his clothes. 

 

Rat went straight to Walter's room, and then nipped Walter sharply on the ear to wake him up. "Do you still have what the prince gave you last night?" he asked. 

"Right here," Walter mumbled, but when he felt for it, the cock ring wasn't there at all. He threw back the covers and searched the bed, then turned to Rat and said, "I think I'm in trouble. What should I do?" 

 

Rat pulled the cock ring from around his neck and handed it to Walter. "Give it to the prince when he asks for it," he said. 

 

Fox browsed through an anthology of witness accounts of alien encounters during breakfast. When everyone else had finished eating, he marked his place and said to Walter. "I suppose you've still got what I gave you. I'll have it back now." 

 

"Certainly," Walter agreed, and threw the golden cock ring down into the empty plate in front of Fox. 

 

Fox's eyes narrowed coldly when he saw it. But the king, who had been prepared to send for the executioner, was overjoyed. "He's performed the first task," he cried. "Today's a holiday!" And so it was, with feasting and entertainments, and some of the darkness in the land outside eased. But Fox excused himself from the table and wasn't seen again until dinner. 

 

After desert was served, Fox unbuttoned his shirt and removed a tiny gold ring from his left nipple. "Take this and keep it for me until I ask for it again," he told Walter. Walter received the ring, and though he resolved not to drink so much, in order to be more alert, Fox once again became charming and engaging and filled his glass over and over. Walter, intoxicated with Fox, drank, with the result that when he went up to bed, after putting the gold ring through his own nipple for safekeeping, he fell into a sleep as if his bed were deep water. 

 

Rat had slipped away from the dinner earlier and gone down to the kennel. "What time does the prince take you for your walk tonight?" he asked the poodle, but the dog merely gave him a haughty look and refused to speak. Rat produced a leg of lamb he'd brought from the dinner. "Hungry, boy?" he asked, and of course the dog was. "Can you roll over, boy?" he asked, and the dog did. Rat threw him some of the meat. "Sit up and beg, boy," Rat said, and the dog did. Rat threw him some more meat. He held up the rest of the leg of lamb up over his head so the dog could see if clearly and said, "Now, speak, boy, speak!" 

 

"Quarter to twelve!" the dog barked enthusiastically, and then, too late, realized it had been tricked. But, he consoled himself with the leg of lamb Rat threw into his kennel. 

 

Meanwhile, Fox had sent the cat the color of a shadow to get the gold ring back from Walter. The cat crept into Walter's room and pulled the covers down from his chest. It slipped the tip of its tail through the ring, and then it pushed its tail through a little further, and a little further still, until at last the ring sprang open. The cat brought the ring in its mouth to Fox, who put it in his pocket and went down to the kennel. 

 

Rat was already there, the salad fork of invisibility woven into his fur. Fox leashed the poodle, said, "Let's go, boy, You know the way," and off through the air they went, with Rat slipping his tiny forepaw through a belt loop on Fox's pants. They flew far out to sea to where the sea hag dwelled and entered her apartment with Rat following closely behind Fox. 

 

The sea hag was draped elegantly across a settee in her apartment, waiting for Fox, but he stormed toward her. "I thought you said you were powerful," Fox spat. 

 

"I am powerful," the sea hag blustered, hating it when Fox was full of energy. "I am very powerful. I am the only one powerful enough to make aliens fear me." 

 

"But this morning my suitor gave me back the golden cock ring," Fox raged at her. "How did he get it? And now I'm one third his." 

 

The sea hag smiled and simpered up to the irate young man. "Now, Fox, calm down. You know it's not good for you to get worked up," she soothed, running her long nails down his chest enticingly. 

 

"Here," Fox handed her the tiny gold ring roughly. "Now put this where no one will ever find it." 

 

"I've got just the place for this," the sea hag told him smugly. She then went to a section of floor and began singing in a high, shrill way that hurt Fox's ears. If it could even be called singing, for she formed no words, rather it was singing from deep in the sea, never meant for men to hear. With a groan, a section of the floor opened up, and there beneath the cave sat a huge oyster resting in shallow water. The sea hag sang again, and the oyster shell opened wide. The sea hag dropped the gold ring into it. But as the ring left her hand, Rat stuck his paw out and caught it and threaded it through his left ear for safe keeping. 

 

Fox heaved a deep sigh, whether of relief or sadness, even he couldn't say, and surrendered himself to the sea hag's embrace. The sea hag brought him over to the marble couch and murmured to him all night of aliens, the short gray ones with big eyes, and the ones who could appear human but could change shape before your eyes, and of the aliens which looked like thick black water-but that moved on its own and could control men. And Fox was fascinated, and allowed her to have her way with him. 

 

Dawn approached, and Fox rose from the sea hag's couch and kissed her good-bye. Outside, he leashed his dog, cried, "Come on, boy! You know the way back." Rat hooked his forepaw through a loop on Fox's belt loop, and back they all went, over the sea, over the mountains, over the vast forest, over the fields, and down again at the door to the kennel. Rat went to Walter's room and nipped Walter sharply on one nipple to wake him up. 

 

Walter came up with a cry, and looked blearily around the room. "Do you still have what the prince asked you to keep for him?" Rat asked him. 

 

"Right here," Walter said, putting his hand over his heart and them taking it away, empty. "I don't believe this." 

 

"I do," Rat said. "Really, Walter, you must try to be more careful." 

 

Walter scowled at him fiercely, then lowered his head in embarrassment. "I know," he said, "what should I do?" 

 

Rat removed the tiny ring from his cute little ear and handed it to Walter. 

"Give this to the prince when he asks for it," Rat told him kindly. 

 

At the breakfast table everyone was tense, waiting to see if Walter had performed the second task. Fox came in carrying a papyrus scroll from the ancients that he believed proved the existence of aliens in the far distant past. He sat down next to Walter. "I'll have back what I gave you last night," he said in his monotone way. "Unless you've misplaced it, of course." And he permitted Walter a small smile. 

 

"Not at all," Walter replied, tossing the gold ring into Fox's plate. 

 

"Yes!" the king cried. "Two down, one to go. Nobody works today." Jugglers ran in and began tossing dishes up into the air, the pastry chefs brought out cakes with so many layers that the tops couldn't be seen, and the birds began singing in the trees outside. But Fox fled up to his tower and spent the day baffled and bouncing a golden ball around his apartment. 

 

That night Fox took the gold earring from his ear and presented it to Walter. "Keep this for me," he said. Then he looked deep and deep into Walter's eyes until he reached his heart, where he made promises of impossible happiness. Walter, remembering that he had almost failed the tests twice, did his best not to believe everything he saw in Fox's eyes. And while this was difficult, he might actually have succeeded if Fox hadn't dropped a tiny pill into Walter's glass and given it to him to drink. When Walter went up to his room that night, he just had time to pierce his own ear with a needle so that he could put Fox's earring in his own ear for safekeeping before sleep came on him like a mountain rolling over. 

 

Rat slipped away into the kennel. When the poodle saw him, it growled deep in its throat and began snapping. "I was thinking about you during dinner," Rat told the dog. "You know, with all the unloved and homeless puppies there are in the kingdom, the responsible thing to do would be to have you neutered. I should put a word in the ear of the kennel master." 

 

"Nice rat," the dog whined. "Fellow talking animal, tonight I go for my walk at midnight, nice rat." 

 

Meanwhile, Fox sent his cat the color of a glass of water in a dark room to Walter. It crept up next to Walter's ear and purred until the earring fell onto the pillow. Then it picked up the earring in its mouth and brought it to Fox. Fox went down to the kennel, leashed his dog, and said, "Let's go, boy. You know the way." Rat, the salad fork of invisibility woven into his fur, caught hold of the hair on Fox's head, and away through the night they flew. As they did, Rat whispered to Fox, "You're wasting your life, stupid!" 

 

"Why am I suddenly full of self-doubt about what Im doing?" Fox wondered aloud as they flew over the fields, forest, mountains and sea to the sea hag's rock. Fox entered her apartment, Rat scurrying along behind him. 

 

"You said you were strong! You said you were powerful! How can you keep me safe when we meet the aliens when you can't even hold onto a ring? He returned it to me this morning. Don't let him win. It hurts too much." He began to weep. 

 

"Nothing will take you from me," the sea hag screeched. "Nothing can touch you when you are in my arms. Not any man, any woman, any monster-" 

 

"And not the aliens. You told me you would take me to the aliens," Fox sniffed pitifully. 

 

"Er, right. Not them either," agreed the sea hag, deflating, and she changed the subject. "What's the third thing this guy's supposed to keep for you?" 

 

"This," said Fox, holding out the gold earring. 

 

"No problem," the sea hag smiled, fastening the earring into her own ear. "He'll have to cut my head off to get it, and I'd like to see him try." And just to be certain, she placed a special studded collar that she had been assured was impervious to everything by the man she'd taken it from. 

 

"Now come here," she ordered Fox. Fox closed his eyes and went to her slowly, and the sea hag bore him down onto the marble couch, where they lay down together. She put her mouth to Fox's ear, and all night long she whispered the story of aliens, and far away planets, and mighty ships flying through the skies. 

 

Dawn came, and Fox kissed the sea hag good-bye and went outside. The sea hag, wanting to keep her girlish figure, stretched out on the floor to begin her floor exercises. As she did, Rat came up behind her, whipped out the steak knife of unfailing sharpness, and swept the sea hag's head off with a single blow. Then he put the head in a pillow case and ran as fast as his magic legs would go, he leapt from the edge of the rock just in time to catch hold of the laces of Fox's shoe. 

 

Fox found himself inexplicably saddened at the idea that when he returned to the palace Walter's head would end up on the end of a spike. But he consoled himself with the idea that the sea hag had promised him that she would take him to meet a shape shifting alien on his return to her that night. 

 

When they returned to the kennel Rat scampered off to run to Walter's room and tried nipping him to wake him. When that didn't work, he dumped the basin of wash water sitting on a nearby table onto Walter. "Do you still have what the prince asked you to keep for him?" he asked. 

 

"It's right here," Walter muttered thickly, putting his hand to the side of his head. But it wasn't, and he sat up with a groan. "No! I'm hopeless. I'm not worthy of Fox, I should die." 

 

"Don't ever say that!" Rat snapped, his fur raised in anger that Walter would think such a thing. "You are a kind, good-hearted man, and you are more than worthy of the prince." Walter stared at him in surprise, and Rat ran his forepaw over the fur on top of his head in an effort to calm himself down. "Walter, you're not hopeless, you're just in love. And you were drugged. It wasn't your fault." He pulled the pillow case containing the sea hag's head from the floor and handed it to Walter. "Here, give this to the prince when he asks you for the earring." 

 

Walter woke up completely. "What *is* that?" he cried. 

 

"This is what was causing the prince to come up with these tests," Rat said flatly. "And it's nothing you haven't dealt with before as a guard." 

 

So Walter dressed, picked up the pillowcase, and took it down to breakfast. 

Everyone at the breakfast table was silent and waiting for him as he took his seat. Then Fox came in and sat down, and his expressive eyes showed sadness as well as anticipation. "Of course you still have what I gave you last night," he said to Walter. "I'll have it back now-unless you've misplaced it." 

 

"No, I have it here," Walter said, and with that he pulled the sea hag's head out of the pillowcase and thumped it down in Fox's plate. The king and all his courtier's gasped, for without her magic, the sea hag's pretty face had reverted back to her fishy, scaly countenance, and it was quite awful to see. 

 

"I'm lost," Fox whispered, and he began to shake in reaction. 

 

The king was the first to recover himself. "Walter has won the prince and my kingdom," he announced in a shaky voice. "But, um, could you perhaps remove that thing?" Rat climbed up onto the table and removed the earring from the sea hag's ear and handed it to Walter. He then pulled the spoon of unbelievable depth from his fur and dropped the sea hag's head into the bowl. There was a great sigh of relief from everyone present. Then the air was full of confetti, horns were blown, and a great party began. Sun shine brilliantly through the stain glass windows high up on the walls and a warm, soft breeze scooted through an open door into the room. 

 

"It's time for me to receive my wages," Rat said in Walter's ear amid all the happy noise. "Bring Fox into the next room." So Walter took Fox by the arm and guided him into an empty room and closed the door. 

 

"If you remember, Walter, we agreed that half of everything that was yours would be mine." 

 

"Of course," Walter smiled in agreement. "Half the kingdom is yours. I'm sure Fox will agree." But Fox just stood there, staring blankly ahead at nothing whatsoever. 

 

Rat shook his head. "A rat can't run a kingdom," he said reasonably. "But 

I can take half of Fox." And he brought out the steak knife of unfailing sharpness. 

 

"No!" Walter cried out in alarm. 

 

"Did you give me your word or not?" Rat demanded. 

 

"Yes, I did," Walter admitted miserably. 

 

"Trust me, Walter," Rat said gently. He scrambled up onto the back of a tall throne like chair so he was even with Fox's face. He raised the steak knife of unfailing sharpness over his furry head. "Now hold still, I want to make sure I cut you in two equal parts." 

 

"No!" Fox cried out, and cried out with such force that he vomited out a thick sludge of black oil. The black oil seemed to shiver, then it began flowing purposefully toward Walter. Rat leapt of the chair back, dropping the steak knife of unfailing sharpness and once again pulling forth the spoon of unbelievable depth. With the spoon, he scooped up all of the black oil, leaving not even a tiny drop behind. 

 

"There," he said, brushing back the fur on top of his head with a forepaw. 

 

"That takes care of that." He turned toward a shocked looking Fox. "We had to get that out of you, or you would have just gone on searching for the aliens. Which would have been bad news for Walter." 

 

As soon as he'd vomited up the black oil, Fox had felt as if he had woken from a bad dream. Health and energy flowed through him, and he stared at Rat and then Walter with wide, confused eyes. "I can't believe it's finally over," he whispered, tears streaming down his cheeks. "I remember the sea hag introduced me to a man, and the man kissed me. . .and then things became blurry, hard to understand." 

 

"The sea hag had you infected with the black oil," Rat told him, "because she has an affinity for it and can control it somewhat. However, she hadn't counted on your unique heritage. You were partially immune to the mind powers of the oil, and so it couldn't make you do all the evil things it wanted. It could cause only a little harm." 

 

Suddenly Fox began crying in earnest. "All those poor men, those beautiful young men, who just wanted to court me!" 

 

Walter was across the room in an instant. "No, Fox, it wasn't you. You are in no way to blame. It was the evil sea hag who caused these things, and it is she who is solely to blame." 

 

It took some convincing, but finally Walter and Rat were able to convince the kind prince of his own innocence. They cuddled and stroked the distraught young man, giving him kisses and professing great love for him. And Prince Fox fell madly in love with Walter and Rat, returning their kisses and love. When they went back to see his father, the king, Rat rode upon Walter, in the place where neck met shoulder, cuddled near his love's ear happily. The king wanted to declare the wedding immediately, and start the celebrations, but Rat whispered in Walter's ear that they needed to wait. "After all, my love, we need to complete our quest for the Quill of World Class Writing." 

 

"It doesn't matter now," Walter replied. "I have the man of my dreams, and a kingdom to boot. I care nothing about King Spender." 

 

Rat bit him on the earlobe. "If we don't take it back he'll just keep sending people out looking for it." 

 

Walter reluctantly agreed, and even more reluctantly explained the situation to Fox. Fox, however, agreed immediately. He did not want people being sent by the king from their homes if he could stop it. He informed the king the wedding must wait, and that he himself would be accompanying Walter back to obtain the Quill of World Class Writing. There were many tears, but the king agreed and the next day Walter, Fox and Rat were on their way. 

 

Now it would have been nice if the two men could step onto Rat's back and be back in no time, but two men was a bit much to stand on the back of a rat no bigger than Walter's shoe, even a very fine magical rat's back. So Fox solved the problem by using the magic he had studied and learned to summon a great winged horse to take them to the castle of the gentleman king who owned the Quill of World Class Writing. 

 

Not being in a great hurry to take Fox to the gentleman king, they landed the flying horse in a field not far from the palace. There Walter and Fox held each other, kissing, and declaring their love. Finally, Fox looked tearfully at Walter and said, "I don't want to see this king, Walter. I want to spend my life with you, not some princess." "I know, my love," Walter told him gently, then he turned to Rat. "Rat, my dearest Rat, what can we do?" 

 

Rat sat in the grass watching them, and now he looked up into Walter's gentle brown eyes and said, "We'll just have to give the king something that looks like Fox, won't we?" And at that he began to pull pawfuls of fur from his soft little tummy and back, and in a very short time he had a pile of fur beside him that was bigger than he was. Walter and Fox looked on in amazement, as no matter how much fur Rat removed, his fur coat seemed just as sleek, and thick and soft as ever. In less than no time Rat had a pile of fur that was just exactly Fox sized. 

 

Rat fluffed and shaped the pile of fur, whispering to it the entire time. When he was done, there stood an exact replica of Fox. 

 

"How many times do you think you could do that, Rat?" Walter asked innocently. Fox took him by the back of his collar. "Just once," he stated. "Now go trade him for the Quill of World Class Writing, he makes me nervous." 

 

So Fox stayed with the flying horse, brushing it and feeding it sweet treats and Rat stayed with him to talk to him and get to know each other better. Walter took the replica Fox and presented him to the king."Oh, he is magnificent," the king declared happily. "He'll make a first rate sire to my grandchildren. There's no way my daughter can resist this prince." And true to his word, he handed over the Quill of World Class Writing, along with a bag full of gold. Walter thanked the king, and took his leave immediately. 

 

The king put his arm around the false Fox's shoulders and walked him through the castle toward his daughter's rooms, rhapsodizing along the way over the beauty of his daughter and the joys of fatherhood. They were almost to the princesses apartments when the false Fox turned to the king and said, "You know, you've kept yourself in *really* good shape for an old guy." Then he reached down and gave the king's bottom an appreciative pat. "Guards!" cried the scandalized king. But before any guard could lay hands on the false Fox, he dissolved into a tall pile of rat fur. The king was unable to send the guards after Walter, for he was highly allergic to rat fur, and he couldn't stop sneezing long enough to get any words out. 

 

Walter, Fox and Rat climbed back onto the flying horse and flew to the castle of the demon king, whose name was Spender, because of his terrible head for finance, with the Quill of World Class Writing. Walter and Fox entered the palace together, both dressed in suits of the finest silk, which Rat had spun from the soft, soft fur of his belly. 

 

King Spender's face lit with an unholy glee mixed with lust as the two handsome men strode confidently into his throne room. "Well, what have we here?" he spoke, breathing out smoke. Fox's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he took a step forward as he assessed the king's true nature. Walter, angered as he saw the king's greedy gaze running over Fox's luscious body, strode forward boldly. "Your majesty," he called out in a bold voice, "I have brought you the Quill of World Class Writing. "He pulled the Quill from his pocket and held it up for the king to see. 

 

The king turned his watery blue gaze from Fox and stared in astonishment at Walter. "This is wonderful!" he declared. "Now I shall have the renown I am do, when I put all the bards to shame with the wonderful stories I shall write with the Quill of World Class Writing." He accepted the Quill from Walter and smiling in an oily fashion, he declared, "there will be a feast in celebration, and you must tell me of your great adventure." 

 

And it was so, there was a great feast, and the king insisted Fox sit on his right hand side, the better for the king to ogle Fox's beauty. Fox however was obviously on the trail of The Truth about the king, and despite the king's best efforts, Fox would not be diverted from asking probing questions of the king. 

Finally, the king could take it no longer. "Enough!" he roared, and his smoky breath caused four servants to fall over in a dead faint, and the guests to go into fits of severe coughing. Fox, however, was made of sterner stuff, having fought any manner of supernatural creatures and monsters. And Walter, who was very tough, as well as brave and true hearted. On experiencing the king's sulfurous breath, Fox shot to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at the king. "I know it now, you are of demon blood!" And he reached into his pocket to get the anti-demon amulet, given to him by a wise old witch doctor, and which he always carried, just in case he should run into a demon. 

 

As Fox pulled out the amulet, one of the king's guard fired an arrow at the handsome prince, thinking to protect his king. Walter, however, his reflexes still sharp, threw himself forward and deflected the arrow with a well placed metal serving platter. Fox didn't flinch, his trust in Walter complete, and his attention locked on the demon before him. 

 

The demon king recoiled at first from the amulet, cowering back in his elaborate dining chair, then, as he realized the amulet did not have enough power to destroy him, he smiled. It was not a nice smile in the slightest, rather, it fully showed his malevolent nature. "You can not hurt me with your pitiful magic," he told Fox. "But I admire your courage, and your spirit. Say you will be mine, and you shall never want for wealth or knowledge. I will teach you all I know, and no-one on earth shall know more than you." 

 

"Never!" Fox cried, and he searched desperately for some bit of knowledge in his vast memory to help him defeat the evil king. Walter fought valiantly, but the king's guards soon had him held helpless and then surrounded Fox. 

 

"If you won't be mine willingly, you will still be mine," the king gloated. "And as for your champion," his baleful eyes turned to Walter, "him I will see executed in the town square for treason against the king, as an example." Then the king threw his head back and laughed in triumph. 

 

His laugh was cut short as Rat appeared on the chair behind him, the steak knife of unfailing sharpness clutched tightly in his paw. With one stroke he removed the king's head. "Never shall you have the men I love!" Rat cried out in a voice as deep and relentless as the ocean. 

 

With the death of the king, the guards released Walter and Fox. Their loyalty had been based on fear of the king, and his powers, and now they rejoiced that the evil being was gone. Word spread quickly, and a great celebration was declared, and runners went out to find those the king had sent on quests, to tell them they could come home. 

 

Walter hurried to scoop Rat from the back of the king's chair, and the Quill of World Class Writing from the king's hand, and he and Fox escaped outside, and from there they went to Walter's tiny room where they could be alone to talk. There Fox and Walter kissed each other frantically, and both covered the soft little rat with kisses and words of love. 

 

"Walter," Rat started, when he could breath again. "Walter, Fox, my loves, I must ask you something." 

 

"Anything, Rat," Walter told him happily. "What do you need?" 

 

Rat sat in his hands, twisting his tail anxiously in his little paws, his face turned down. He ran a forepaw over the fur on his head, then turned pleading green eyes on Walter and Fox. "Walter, have I ever asked for anything for myself except your trust?" 

 

"No, Rat," Walter answered truthfully. "You know I would give you anything, but you have never asked." 

 

"There is something you must do for me now, Walter," Rat told him solemnly. 

 

"Anything," Walter promised, and Fox also swore, "Anything." 

 

Rat leapt down from Walter's hands and stood looking up at the two men. He handed Fox the teaspoon of unbelievable depth, and the salad fork of invisibility. He then handed the steak knife of unfailing sharpness to Walter. "You must take this knife, and you must skin me," Rat told them firmly. 

 

"No!" Walter cried out in horror. But Fox just studied Rat intensely, a look of deep thought on his face. "Yes," Rat insisted. "You promised, Walter, you must do this. I am avenged, the king is dead, and you and Fox have a long and happy future together. It is time for me to go." 

 

Walter refused, and argued with great skill, but Rat would not be have his mind changed. Nothing would do but that Walter kill and skin him. Fox did not join in the arguments, but stood silently by. When Walter broke down in tears, Fox put his arms around him comfortingly. "You must trust him, Walter," he told him simply. Rat looked up at them both, and said, "Thank you." 

 

And so, Walter did as his best loved friend asked. He killed Rat, and skinned him, though his heart broke in two and he thought he would never see again through the tears that fell. 

 

When he was done, a tearful Fox folded the tiny skin in Walter's big hand, and with his fingers twined with Walter's laid the skin against Walter's chest right over his heart. And Walter's heart sensed the body of his beloved Rat nearby, and it beat harder, and the tears of the two men fell onto their hands, and soaked into the soft, velvety fur. Exhausted, the two men went to bed, too tired from grief and the day's events to try to return to the kingdom of Fox's father. 

Walter woke the next morning to the delightful feel of a naked, warm body pressed up close to him. Only his grief kept him from smiling at the welcome sensation. He opened bleary eyes to look upon his lover, and found instead a dark haired head laying against his broad chest. And over the top of this head, he saw Fox looking over at him, a wide smile on his sensual mouth. "What?" Walter asked brightly, and he pulled back to see who this man was who came between him and his beloved Fox. 

 

There was a soft whimper, and then the dark haired man raised his face to 

Walter, stealing his breath away. For the face was that of none other than 

Alexei, the young man Walter had slain long ago. Now Walter was more baffled than ever, and a little frightened. "Don't fear," Fox comforted him. "Yes, please don't fear me," Alexei begged him in his soft, husky voice. "For I am Rat, your own true Magical Talking Animal Companion, and you need never fear me." 

 

"But," Walter stammered. "I killed you, twice over!" 

 

"And both times were done with love and kindness intended. Your kindness brought great comfort to my family, and allowed me a decent burial. And your love has given me more life than death could take. In giving me death, you saved me, twice." Alexei told him sweetly. 

 

"And that is a very powerful magic," Fox clarified. "More powerful than I could ever dream of being." 

 

Alexei twisted in the bed, facing Fox and he laid a gentle hand on his cheek. "You are right, and you are wrong. Without your love, and without the magic you possess, when Walter killed Rat, that would have been the end of me. I would have gone on to whatever waits on the other side of death. Only the love of both of you could bring me back to the land of the living." And at that, Fox replied, "I'm glad." 

 

That very day the three men returned to the kingdom of Fox's father, to the castle that was now known as the Castle of Three Kings. The spikes with the would-be-suitors heads were gone, and the land was surrounded by beautiful green fields, with flowers of all kinds blooming in all the castle gardens. The three lovers were married in a grand ceremony, and then began their rule of the land, as Fox's father stepped down. And the land prospered and surpassed all surrounding lands in happiness under the kind, wise, and powerful rule of the three kings. And Walter's friends Dana and John attended the wedding, and then returned to the ex-demon king's kingdom to help his son, Prince Jeffrey, who was not really a bad sort when you got to know him. Jeffrey had a big job undoing the harm his father had caused and Dana and John became his advisors and helped him bring about a happy and prosperous kingdom. 

 

And they all lived, and loved, happily ever after. 

 

THE END.


End file.
